


Craving

by goodworkperky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Hand Jobs, M/M, sbweek2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodworkperky/pseuds/goodworkperky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he has to do is wear those jeans right and cant his hips. It's in his eyes, his smile, the way he tilts his chin like an invitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Craving

Bucky is given pause when he sees Sam. Halfway down the stairs and one hand on the railing, Bucky watches Sam stand in the kitchen. He is bathed in morning light, skin highlighted in reds and golds, silhouette luminous. All he has to do is look at him and Bucky feels his blood go south. And he does more than look. Lips hover near his cup of coffee, and he smiles with a look that Bucky knows all too well. 

His eyes follow Bucky down the stairs, body shifting. And Bucky is keen enough to know there is an erection forming beneath jeans hung far too low hips. Bucky runs his tongue over his lips. It doesn't take much from Sam to get him going; Sam knows this. All he has to do is wear those jeans right and cant his hips. It's in his eyes, his smile, the way he tilts his chin like an invitation. 

"Oh, fuck me," Bucky breathes as he steps close, arms encircling his partner's waist. 

Sam sets his coffee on the counter. "I could do that," he laughs. 

Hands find their way beneath the soft cotton fabric of shirts, rough hands mapping the planes of bare backs. Bucky pushes Sam back against the counters with his hips and drags his hands up to pull the shirt over his head. Lips come together for a slow kiss. And Bucky can taste the coffee that lingers, adores the softness, the heat, the excitement that sparks. He brings his hand up to Sam's neck, prosthetic thumb tilting his chin up and to the side to give Bucky better access. Lips leave hungry kisses along Sam's jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Bucky goes down slowly, raking nails lightly over Sam's side. Breath reverently carries his name. 

Bucky palms his own growing erection as well as Sam's. He takes his time undoing jeans in feigned reluctance, watches him carefully with a mischievous look that earns a quiet growl. And when Sam's dick springs free, he laves his lips with spit, mouth waiting and wanting. Blue eyes look up through lowered lashes to eye contact as Bucky runs his tongue along the length. He takes the head into his mouth as he strokes the shaft slowly. His tongue swirls over the tip. 

Sam gathers Bucky's hair back from his face as he hums softly. And Bucky is growing just as hard, his erection uncomfortable being contained. He bucks slightly against his own hand before he can get his dick out to stroke slow and steady. Bucky teases the underside of his dick with his tongue before licking broad strokes from head to tip. His hand keeps up a steady stroke before he flattens his tongue, relaxes his throat and takes Sam all the way to the base. He lingers, humming in satisfaction, and tries not to laugh at the curses spilling from Sam's lips. 

He reaches up to rest his hand on Sam's side, fingers splayed and the metal catching the light. The air fills with heavy breaths and every wet slurp. Bucky keeps his tongue flat and gently cups Sam's balls in his hand. He watches through lashes as Sam leans back against the counter, lower lip caught between his teeth. Spit gathers to hit his chin in a warm and sticky mess as he goes from head to base. 

Pausing for air, he pulls off Sam, tongue out and panting lightly. Tendrils of spit bridges mouth to dick. 

Sam runs his tongue over his lips. He strokes himself in short quick bursts. "Take your shirt off and let me watch you." 

Bucky does as he's told. Shirt gets discarded next to Sam's and he sits back on his heels. The sight on Sam is enough to get him off, but Bucky is careful, strokes himself slowly. He wants this to last. A warm blush spreads across his skin. 

"Let me finish you off," Bucky says, voice rough in its craving. He springs forward when Sam gives a small nod. 

Bucky licks excess spit from Sam's dick, tastes pre-cum on his tongue. Sam's legs quiver slightly and he can't help but thrust slightly into the warmth of his partner's mouth. Bucky holds him steady. Mouth open, waiting. Sam pushes Bucky's hair back and quietly moans his name before he spills himself. Still steady stroking himself, Bucky tilts his head back and sticks out his tongue. Sam's come settles on it like it begs for more, like his mouth craves to be filled. 

Sam pulls Bucky to his feet and kisses him softly. His fingers touch pink and swollen lips, and Bucky takes them to the knuckle. The sticky mess of spit and come swirls around Sam's fingers, making them slick. He pulls out with a wet _plop_. 

"Put your arms around my neck," Sam orders. 

Bucky lets his arms rest on Sam's shoulders, and he can't help but buck his hips as Sam runs his hand up and down his shaft. Lips swallow a heavy moan, thumb flicks over the head of his dick. Pupils dilate, breath comes fast and heavy, body trembles. Bucky mouths absentminded kisses anywhere his lips can reach. 

"Look at me when you come, Buck." 

And he does. He comes, comes undone, comes apart, right into Sam's hand. Sticky white mess smears on skin. Bucky rests his forehead against the curve of Sam's neck, content as lips brush against his ear.

"Damn, Wilson, you're a mess," Bucky laughs quietly.

Sam presses their bodies closer together and makes a bigger mess. He laughs along with his partner for a moment before he settles into a satisfied hum.


End file.
